


Another Lost Soul

by RitzyGreen



Category: Gregory Horror Show
Genre: Gen, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:54:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24758122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RitzyGreen/pseuds/RitzyGreen
Summary: The first guest left a family behind when he became Haniwa Salaryman. His son loses his way and ends up at Gregory House.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Another Lost Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 6/22/2017

What am I doing walking through this forest?

The last thing I remember is that I was heading home from a friend's graduation party. I ended up losing track of the time and barely caught the last train. I started to walk back from the station and… and…

It's no use. Everything after that is a blur.

My phone's useless too. In the few moments it shines at me before dying from a lack of battery it shows that it can't get any service. Fantastic.

I don't know how I got here. I live in the middle of the city, and beside some parks there shouldn't be any natural green for miles. Is this some kind of cruel prank? Did someone at the party drug me and drag me out to the middle of nowhere for some sick laughs?

I want to retrace my steps, head back to wherever it was I came from, but everywhere I look that isn't straight ahead is trees and fog. Even the path behind me is covered in mist. My gut tells me it's a bad idea to try to go back through that mess, and I listen to it.

While I continue forward my mind starts to wander.

What if I don't make it back home? What if I die out here? If I don't even know where I am what chance does anyone else have of finding me? What's going to happen to my family? We already had dad vanish on us, I don't want to put them through that again.

Oh, dad… Of course I'd be remembering him at a time like this.

He went missing when I was nine.

It was a perfectly normal and boring day. Dad headed off to work after mom warned him he'd be late. He didn't come back that night, but we weren't worried. It wasn't strange for him to stay at some cheap hotel near his office instead of taking the train back home if he had a lot of work.

But then he didn't come back the next day, or the next, or the next…

It didn't matter how many messages mom left him, dad never answered the phone. She called every place she could think of where he might be; his workplace, friends, even his favorite restaurants, and stores. No one ever knew where he went though.

The whole time mom tried to reassure me and my little brother it would be fine, that he'd come back again.

Dad went missing before when I was a toddler. He was gone for nearly a month. When he came back the only explanation he could give was some crap about how he had to stay at a hotel for a while with a rat problem. Something about rediscovering himself or whatever.

I guess he was going through a midlife crisis.

Of course, mom didn't buy it, and she held it against him for years. She'd bring the hotel up when she was really mad at him, suggesting none too kindly that he was having fun at a sleazy, prostitute littered sort of place instead of the creepy one he described.

Mom always told me that she never meant it, that she was only upset when she accused him of infidelity. However, during his second disappearance she called a bunch of love hotels, begging the employees to tell her if her husband was there.

Four days passed before she finally called the police.

The cops already knew about my dad's past disappearance, and since he was an adult they didn't really put much effort into the search. They probably thought the same thing my mom did; he'd come back on his own soon enough.

But then days stretched into weeks, then weeks into months.

It wasn't like the cops did nothing. They interrogated his coworkers, friends, even mom for some sort of clue to his whereabouts. All the police got was that a bunch of his peers suspected that dear old pops had depression and finally offed himself.

Eventually, the investigation went cold and we had to accept that this time dad wasn't coming back.

Mom was an emotional wreck after he disappeared. She hovered around us for months, too scared to let us go anywhere alone, never letting us make our own decisions… If I go missing, there's no way she'll ever let bro out of her sight.

Even though I can't remember them getting along that great, she misses dad so much. Sometimes she'll start crying, trying to comfort us, and we'll play along. My little brother was really young when dad left so he doesn't even remember the guy, but he still says he misses him.

As for me? I don't care. I don't miss dad.

I know that's a terrible thing to say, but you know what?

Dad wasn't all that great.

He was barely home, instead slaving away at his job. When he was home, he was always too tired to talk unless it was about my bad grades or attitude. This, of course, put us at odds with each other.

It didn't help matters that he kept forgetting about me. When he'd go out he would promise me that he'd bring something back, a nice treat or a cute little souvenir. He never remembered though, and little me would always get so upset over it. I'd throw tantrums and he'd just stare at me with those sad, tired eyes. That made me even angrier.

Most of our conversations at the end devolved into arguments or awkward silences. Looking back, I do regret it, but I was kid. He should've tried to handle it better.

I did blame myself for a while when he left. I thought it was my fault, that my bratty behavior drove him off, but I know better now.

Dad disappeared because he was a coward. He couldn't handle his job, having a family, hell, he couldn't handle reality.

I need to stop thinking about him. Moping over that bastard hasn't gotten me anywhere before, and sure as hell won't now. Wait a second...

What is that?

At the very end of the path is a large hotel with the words GREGORY HOUSE hanging above the door in ugly bronze letters.

I know I should be relieved to have finally found some sign of civilization in these woods, and I kind of am. But I can't shake this strange feeling of dread that seems to grow with every step I take closer to the building. As silly as it is, a big part of me didn't want anything to do with the place.

But I couldn't see any other roads beside the one that led straight to its door, my cellphone still had no connection, and I certainly didn't want to spend the night outside in this strange forest. Who knows what kind of creatures are out here?

Oh well.

I'll just go in, ask the innkeeper for directions and access to their phone. If that doesn't work I'll just stay in one of the rooms until morning.

It will only be one night. What's the worst that could happen?


End file.
